


Twisted

by UrbanNative



Category: Mafia (Video Games)
Genre: Doctor/Patient, F/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Institutions, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-19 18:37:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11319267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UrbanNative/pseuds/UrbanNative
Summary: "So, did you do it?"There was a silence that filled the space between the two. His eyes shifted from the dull, metal table to meet hers; void of any emotion or sign of humanity. A smirk spread across his face as he shrugged his shoulders."Does it look like I did it?"





	1. i.

His vision blurred as body was engulfed by flames. The roaring embers nipped at his skin, rather than peeling at his flesh they caressed him like a mother swaddling her small child. He was dazed, a pulsating pain on the right side of his head skewed his senses. A liquid dripped down his face, a few drops falling onto his lips. The tips of his fingers wiped at the substance, and his hands became covered with a familiar crimson colored liquid. Seeing that caused his breathing to falter a bit; he felt numb as the cotton fabric that adorned his frame crinkled and burned, leaving nothing but foul smelling ashes. Agonizing screams of his fallen family members surrounded him, pulling him out of his trance like state. 

“Lincoln!”

The sound of his adoptive father’s cries filled the burning establishment. His deep brown eyes shot open, looking in the direction in which the screams were coming from. He had to save him. Sammy gave him everything and he refused to let him die here. Not on his watch. Lincoln attempted to stand, his frame wobbled as he took a few steps forward. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed a limp body draped over the bar. He squinted as he hobbled towards the corpse. The only thing that was recognizable was a light blue leather racing jacket, just like the one Danny used to wear.

As he realized it was indeed his old friend he felt bile rush up from his stomach, covering his mouth and stumbling back as he watched Danny’s corpse burn slowly. The blue color slowly crinkled into black, the one attribute that would've made him easy to recognize disappeared before his eyes. Another corpse met his line of vision, the burning bar coming into a clear view for the first time. A red, paisley print shirt came into view; Lincoln’s heart dropped as he watched his adoptive brother’s body burn to a crisp. Tears welled in his eyes and his knees buckled at the sight. He couldn't save him. After all of these years he couldn't save him from this fate.

It was far too late.

Sammy’s voice boomed in his ears once more, and he immediately ran towards it. The sharp pain in his skull returning as he ran towards his fallen adoptive father. The look in his eyes said it all; it was a look of hurt mixed with betrayal and rage. The older man’s brows furrowed a bit, but soon returned to it’s normal state as he gave Lincoln a weak look. 

“Why’d you do it, Lincoln?”

A look of horror was sprawled across Lincoln’s face. He didn't know what Sammy was talking about. Why did he do what? How did this all happen? “Why’d you kill us, son? We loved you. I loved you like you were my own,” his gargled words were a result of the blood that bubbled around his lips. Lincoln stammered back at his words, his head shook rapidly as he watched Sammy’s body go up in flames. “Sammy!” Lincoln’s voice cracked as he watched his family incinerate. All he’s known seemed to crumble at his feet. He fell to his knees, hot tears ran down his face and his heart felt like it would stop at any minute. Something shimmered on the ground, and his eyes soon darted to the foreign object. A lighter flickered as the flames seemed to dance off of it in a taunting manner.

◇

 

Cold sweat ran down his forehead, his deep brown eyes glazed with fear. It was the same nightmare he had been having for the past few days, and every time it occurred it seemed to get more and more realistic. The feeling of the ice cold metal of the bed frame bought him back to his senses. The smell of polyurethane and lemon made him cringe, for it reminded him of the predicament he was stuck in. The state placed him in New Bordeaux’s Insane Asylum, thinking they were cutting him slack since he was a Vietnam veteran. In any other situation he would’ve been jailed with no hesitation. The city of New Bordeaux thinks they're doing him a favor by tossing him in here, but in reality he would've preferred the electric chair. For as long as Lincoln could remember there had been rumours about the awful things that went on behind these walls.

“Fuck,” he groaned out, the nurses opened his door and immediately handed him a small plastic cup. The meds that they've placed him on as soon as his psyche evaluation came back. He thought it was total bullshit, but you can't really defend yourself once you're known as the “crazy mandingo nigger that offed his family.” Lincoln rolled his eyes as he snatched the small cup from off of the tray and tossed back the pills. His eyes never left the nurse’s. A fake smile was plastered on the woman’s face, and the sight of her pale yellow teeth made him want to spit the pills at her face. 

Thankfully for her he didn't; instead he swallowed the chalky medicine. “You know the drill, Clay,” the monotone voice caused an immediate migraine as he stuck his tongue out. The nurse looked satisfied as Lincoln got up and made his way towards the door. “Oh by the way, Clay, there's a group of students coming out here to see you and a few other patients. Try not to act like a human being and not off them.” Her snide remark made him roll his eyes. “Don't gotta worry ‘bout me. Them teeth’a yours will do just as much damage, if not worse.” Instead of waiting on a reaction, he left the woman stewing in her own rage. He knew he'd probably pay for it later, but who cares?


	2. ii.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Professor Dalton's behavioural analysis class is in for a wild ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so my original character is being introduced in this chapter. Nothing major.
> 
> Note: she has a speech impediment and tends to stutter when she's nervous/excited.

Sweat droplets formed on Hikari’s forehead while she sat on the rickety, scorching hot bus. She watched as the greenery seemed to blur into the passing homes and businesses, unable to tell the thickets of trees from large bushes as the bus traveled down the highway. Her behavioral analysis class was on it’s way to the local mental hospital for the sake of a year long case study. The students were going to be introduced to some of New Bordeaux’s very own wackos, having to gather information on their personality, demeanor, body language, eating habits—anything they could use to pick up on the patient’s behavior to determine whether or not their previous actions were indeed determined by their environment, upbringing, or personal gain.

Just thinking about being face to face with some clinically insane person caused chills to creep up her spine, shifting in the worn leather seat as she watched the bus turn off at their exit. Her heart seemed to leap into her throat, legs shaking restlessly at the sudden feeling of the bus beginning to slow down. A tall, dull looking building came into view. The rustic lettering etched in the wrought iron gate that read “New Bordeaux’s Mental Rehabilitation Center” seemed to loom overhead as the bus entered the driveway. The other students buzzed with excitement as the bus came to a stop, but Hikari slumped in her seat. She clutched her knapsack, her fingers repeatedly ran over the stitching that held the bag together. As she watched the other students stand and begin to file off she slowly began regretting her academic decision. What if one of the patient’s goes crazy and just snaps on someone? Would it be valuable data for the study or just something that goes on every time the asylum has a large amount of guests?

“Hikari, snap out of it,” the sound of her professor’s shrill voice yanked her out of her paranoid thoughts. The professor gave her a disapproving look, causing a few of the other students to giggle at the scene. Blinking, Hikari shot up out of her seat and shifted past her professor. “Um, sorry ‘bout that,” she stammered, holding her head low as she felt the woman’s stare burning into her back. Being the only black girl in the entire class, amongst the five other black people that were in her entire academic program, came with a long list of disadvantages. It especially was bad since she was held to such a high standard due to the high marks she receives on almost every exam. Quite a few professors had a bad taste in their mouth and a short leash when it came to her, especially Professor Dalton. 

Stepping down off of the bus, Hikari cringed at the sound of murmurs amongst her classmates, along with a few glances here and there. She attempted to shake it off as Professor Dalton called for the group’s attention. “Okay everyone, listen up! I’m about to go over the rules you must uphold whilst interrogating the patients,” she exclaimed. Her word choice made Hikari’s skin crawl. Not everyone in the rehabilitation center was a criminal, and for the professor to insist they all were was ridiculous. She closed her eyes in attempts to suppress an eyeroll as the professor continued her speech. “Remember, although you are assigned a specific patient you are not solely bound to that patient. It helps to get different perspectives on the same patient. Secondly, you may record your dialog between you and your patient, but due to their ‘security’—” the woman emphasized the word in an annoyed tone, getting a few laughs out of the students— “you must ask for their permission before you actually begin to record them. You musn’t share any of your findings with anyone else, meaning your findings must remain yours until the end of the study. You can visit your patient at any time, and finally, observe any and everything! The way they flinch when you bring up certain topics, their demeanor, the way they smell, the way they look. Write. Down. Everything. Lastly, don’t forget you can drop out of the study at any time if you can’t...stomach what you find out, but don’t forget to report your findings to me when you’re done!” 

With that being said the professor plastered a false smile on her face and turned on her heels, waltzing through the large arches and pulling the wooden door open. The students filed in after her, squeezing through the door and slowly filling up the lobby of the rehabilitation center. Hikari was nudged through the scuffle, and she was more than sure someone shoved her. Her frame toppled a bit, but she managed to maintain her footing as she made it to the center of the lobby. Once everyone was “comfortably” settled in the lobby, an older gentleman with gray hair dressed in a sharp looking suit greeted the group. “Hello, students. Welcome to New Bordeaux’s Mental Rehabilitation Center, or MRC for short,” he belted, his Italian accent coated his words as he outstretched his arms in a welcoming manner. “It’s indeed a pleasure to have y’all here, and I’m honored that you chose my establishment as the source of y’all case study.” His arms fell to his sides as he stood in front of the students. “Now, if ya’ll will follow me I’ll show you where the interviews will be takin’ place,” his voice echoed as he began walking into the next room. The class followed behind, and once again Hikari could feel her body being shoved against. For the sake of the assignment she decided to stay silent, regardless of the heel that crushed her ankle and caused a small yelp of pain to leave her full lips.

Silencing herself once more, her eyes glances over the pristine white walls that were decorated in stained glass windows adorned with Catholic saints. It felt as if the glass-eyed saints stared down upon the group as they walked down the long hallway, most definitely making quite a few people uncomfortable. The building seemed deathly silent, and the farther they walled down the hallway the more Hikari’s stomach turned. Fortunately the hall came to an end, causing the man to stop at the closed doors, turning to face the students. “This is where a vast majority of your study will be goin’ on. If you’d like, you can request a private room for a more intimate settin’ with ya patient. Of course the room will be on watch, thanks to our top notch security and security cameras within each private room to assure y’alls safety.” Once he finally finished talking he turned to face the doors once more, pushing them forward before walking into the large room, white room.

A sharp smell of cleanser filled Hikari’s nostrils and caused her eyes to water as they entered the large room. The large room was also adorned with large, stained glass windows; images of angels took the place of the saints in the multicolored glass. Pale yellow light covered the room with a warm glow, in contrast to the cold and seemingly unresponsive patients. A few of them looked in the group’s direction, but quickly lost interest and went back to their previous actions. One of the patients continued to stare, his dark brown eyes intently scanning the group; it felt like he was trying to memorize every face that entered the room. 

“Alright all, I hope everythin’ with ya study goes well,” the older man announced once more. He did the usual schtick of saying if anyone needed anything just ask, and the group soon diverted their attention back to Professor Dalton. “Now that that’s said and done, you have your assignments now go ahead and get to it. We have an hour and a half today, but as I’ve stated before you can come back on your own time to speak with your patient.” The group scattered to try and find their “assignments,” a vast majority of the students finding their patients with ease. Hikari rustled through her knapsack to review her notes. She pulled out her folder with all of the information she needed, but all of her papers were knocked askew when the professor knocked into her. The girl fell with an “oof”, class notes and excess papers were scattered across the floor. A few onlookers watched as she struggled with trying to arrange her notes back into the order they were once in, but no one got up to help her. She immediately blamed herself for standing in Professor Dalton’s way.

Hikari’s face felt hot with embarrassment as she heard small, light footsteps approach her direction. “Let me help you, cher,” a woman’s silvery voice caused Hikari to freeze where she knelt, her chestnut eyes meeting the woman’s onyx one’s. The brown-skinned woman smiled down at her, her slender frame knelt down to assist Hikari in her task. “T-Thank you, ma’am,” the girl mumbled. She held her face down to avoid eye contact with the woman in effort to avoid further embarrassment. “No need to thank me. It’s just common courtesy to help someone in need,” the woman responded, a sharp glance was placed at Professor Dalton before she glanced down at one of the papers that was face down at the floor. Skimming the information vaguely, a small grin graced her features. “Ahh, you lookin’ for Lincoln, hm?” Hikari’s head shot up as she hastily took the paper from the woman’s hand. “Y-Yes ma’am. I’m sorry to trouble you with th-”

“It’s no problem at all, cher.” The woman’s voice was motherly, almost immediately putting the young girl at ease. She rose from her kneeling position, the yellow glow of the room made her look like a sunflower leaning in the direction of the sunrays. The woman gave Hikari the papers, and the girl removed them from her grip cautiously. “I’ll point you in his direction. He’s over there in the far corner,” she stated, her slender digit pointing at the same man who was observing everyone earlier. “Good luck with ya studies, sweetheart,” the woman remarked before gliding across the room, taking her place at the table with the scrawny white boy that was set to interview her. “Okay, breathe, Hikari. You already wasted time fumblin’ all over the place,” she thought to herself. She inhaled sharply while brushing the wrinkles out of her khaki skirt. Hikari began her trek to the table in the far corner, noting on how the male didn’t even flinch as she walked over to him. “Um, hello Lincoln. I-I apologize for my clumsiness and my tardiness,” she started, a nervous smile crossed her face as she took a seat across from the man. His eyes still didn’t leave the table. Instead he shrugged and rested his hands upon the table. There was a thick silence between them, causing Hikari to immediately feel intimidated by his large presence. His shoulders hunched forward as he fiddled with a small piece of twine. 

“Okay then, let’s get started!” A nervous laugh left her lips as she thumbed through her notes once more, despite the fact that she’s reviewed them hundreds of times. “Let me start by askin’ you if you’re okay with bein’ recorded? If you’re not comf-”

“Nah. Don’t record me.”

His deep voice filled the area between them and it cut like a knife, causing her to jump in her seat at the sudden sound. Hikari blinked, attempting to shake off the growing anxious feeling. “Alright, I’ll take note of that,” she stammered. She fumbled in her bag for her notepad and pen, taking note of how he was seemingly barren of emotion. “Okay, so I’m more than sure you’re aware of why I’m here. If not then I’ll inform you very quickly. I’m h-here to interview you on the death of y-your adoptive f-”

“I didn’t kill ‘em.”

Once again his voice caused her to flinch, it felt as if he was scolding her. In this moment she was happy that they weren’t making direct eye contact, or else she’d be sweating right about now. Her eyes were glued to her notepad, her body was riddled with anxiety and her mind went blank. “I-I, um-- shit-”

“Do I make you nervous?” Hikari immediately shook her head, trying to find a way to properly explain why she’s a nervous wreck. “It’s no-not you, it’s just that I have a lot ridin’ on this project, tha’s all,” she blurted. Her eyes were stuck on her notepad, chewing her bottom lip in the manner she usually did when she was extremely anxious. She brushed a few strands of her kinky hair behind her ear before drumming her fingers upon her notepad.

Silence. It was like she could hear Professor Dalton shrill voice condemning her for not being up to par. 

“Well first thing’s first. You tryna be all personable and shit, look me in my face.”

Slowly, her chestnut eyes left her notepad and were soon greeted by his dark brown ones. Her mouth hung agape as she took in his features; his golden brown complexion seemed to glisten as his skin absorbed the pale yellow light. His jaw clenched for a moment as he watched her in silence. “See? Was that so hard,” he asked in a snarky tone, his full lips forming into a smirk.

“N-No… it wasn’t too bad…” Hikari’s response was damn near a whisper, causing Lincoln to laugh once more. “Well damn, they gave me the quiet girl? This is gonna be fun,” Lincoln teased. The girl’s cinnamon complexion was washed over with a deep rouge. She wasn’t used to someone speaking her like this, and it was especially strange coming from a patient in a mental rehabilitation center. 

“Now let’s start from the beginning. My name’s Lincoln, as you know. And you are?” His hand moved in a circular motion, attempting to get a response out of the girl. “M-My name’s Hikari,” she managed, her soft voice had a bit of bass as she finally was able to gather her strength. “Hm. Cute name.”

Not the response she was expecting, but it was something for her notes.“Um, t-thanks!” Her response sounded more excited than anticipated, and she covered her mouth as a result. His brow quirked at her awkward demeanor.

“You wanna ask me a question, or we just gonna look at each other the whole time?”

Her mouth went dry as she tried to find the right way to ask the first question. Without thinking, she blurted the first thing that came to mind: "So, did you do it?"

There was a silence that filled the space between the two. His eyes shifted from the dull, metal table to meet hers; void of any emotion or sign of humanity. Her blood ran cold as the smirk on his face got wider; he casually shrugged his shoulders while leaning back in his chair. 

"Does it look like I did it?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapyer was long as shit, but on the bright side y'all met Hikari! Also, the way I'm writing Lincoln in this fic isn't going to be all that...nice. 
> 
> So far I have an idea of where I want to take this fic, but I'm not too sure. Leave comments and whatnot, I enjoy feedback. ♡

**Author's Note:**

> Man.........i don't know what this is, lmao. I guess I'll keep writing if y'all like it. 
> 
> Wanted to try something a bit different, so here's an asylum AU for Mafia III.


End file.
